Opener 'hard rain' pushes us headfirst into the So Sad So Sexy of the title with it's slow-jam ready to grind beats and yearning vocals which wallow in their own heartbreak. Welcome to the world of Lykke Li.

Lush production and smooth melancholic R&B influenced beats are the name of the game here as the ever-gloomy Li regales us once more with her love-lorn antics. While this record does see Li experimenting with more sonic influences and pop-trap beats it still safely walks the sad scandi-pop line we've come to expect from the quintessential emotional millennial fave. This new style though has perhaps been embraced too heavily here as the songs merge into one another progressing at the same tempo and with the same sense of longing.

As we've witnessed from previous records like Wounded Rhymes Li isn't averse to a hit and there definitely are some radio-ready tracks on display here. 'Sex Money Feelings Die' with its wickedly catchy refrain of the title is sure to be one of the club hits of the summer and the weirdly catchy 'Jaguars In The Air' has me desperately searching for some sense of meaning in the weirdest lyric of 2018 so far, while still singing along every time. Even ‘Last Piece’ has a sing along chorus, though probably one of the most subdued sing-along anthems you’ve warbled to.

If you’re looking for water metaphors then in the words of Li “I have an ocean, I can give you a seafull” she trills giving us the tale of her damaged romance before drips of water take us into ‘Deep End’ where “Swimming pool, swimming pool” is just the surface of her well of emotion. And on her first collaboration with rapper Amine she’s called out for drowning in the gloom with the hilarious “Don’t be sad look alive Lykke” which conjures images of her just being shaken until she gives us a smile.

The post dub-step beats are a new step for Li and she’s definitely indulging in them, the rhythmic and serious nature of them compliments her sober and often self-important tone. So Sad So Sexy is by no means a bad record, but while the Li of previous records was refreshing and stark showing us her vulnerability, the slickly produced nature of this means that’s often lost and in its place is cliché as Li tries to hang onto the weighty romance of youth. If Li can write about the next stage of her life with the same keen observation and dark contradiction of albums like Youth Novels and Wounded Rhymes then count me. Until then at least we’ve got some weird and catchy tracks to make do with.